Week #3 March 15, 2020
Watch This Week's Wednesday Word
"Through Samaria"
Artist: Lisle Gwynn Garrity
A wilderness exists between them. Samaria (currently known as part of the West Bank) was a region between Judea and Galilee, a place most Jews journeyed around, not through. Long-standing religious animosity existed between Jews and Samaritans. By cultural standards, a woman was not to encounter a man alone,and it was considered indecent for a man to speak to a woman in public places.
A wilderness of isolation and shame exists within the woman. She has had too many husbands, but not by choice. She’s been labeled infertile, and in turn, been divorced and passed around from man to man. She’s been widowed, grieving men who have died from sickness and from war. She’s had to sell her body to survive. She’s been shunned and shamed by other women. She’s been objectified and sexualized since she was a child. She’s still a child, but she’s lived a hundred lives. She is one woman, but she holds within herself the pain and secrets of thousands of women throughout time and space.
And in this wilderness terrain—a space where she is both vulnerable and alone, where she blends
in but also longs to be seen—she is sought out, welcomed, known. That’s all she needs, really—to
be seen. Really seen and truly known.
A wilderness exists between them, and yet the wilderness brings them together. The wilderness
becomes a place to begin again. She leaves her jar behind, filled instead with a new story to share.
Watch This Week's Wednesday Word
"Through Samaria"
Artist: Lisle Gwynn Garrity
A wilderness exists between them. Samaria (currently known as part of the West Bank) was a region between Judea and Galilee, a place most Jews journeyed around, not through. Long-standing religious animosity existed between Jews and Samaritans. By cultural standards, a woman was not to encounter a man alone,and it was considered indecent for a man to speak to a woman in public places.
A wilderness of isolation and shame exists within the woman. She has had too many husbands, but not by choice. She’s been labeled infertile, and in turn, been divorced and passed around from man to man. She’s been widowed, grieving men who have died from sickness and from war. She’s had to sell her body to survive. She’s been shunned and shamed by other women. She’s been objectified and sexualized since she was a child. She’s still a child, but she’s lived a hundred lives. She is one woman, but she holds within herself the pain and secrets of thousands of women throughout time and space.
And in this wilderness terrain—a space where she is both vulnerable and alone, where she blends
in but also longs to be seen—she is sought out, welcomed, known. That’s all she needs, really—to
be seen. Really seen and truly known.
A wilderness exists between them, and yet the wilderness brings them together. The wilderness
becomes a place to begin again. She leaves her jar behind, filled instead with a new story to share.